


2017 Buckynat Week Drabble Prompts

by MedeaV



Category: Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Mission Fic, Pillow Fights, Red Room (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 21:30:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10544656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MedeaV/pseuds/MedeaV
Summary: Prompt 1: "But I never get to use the grenade launcher!" "Remember what happened in Macau?!" "It was one time!"Prompt 2: "I've never seen you so relaxed."Prompt 3: "Guys love it when you can show them you're better than they are at something they love!"





	1. Grenade launcher

“Target’s almost in position. Five minutes until we engage,” Steve’s voice mutters over the comms.

Bucky’s eyes barely twitch, though his finger already on the trigger does, almost unnoticeable. “East end all clear,” Clint’s voice adds. “Ready for the showdown.”

“All clear on our end as well,” Natasha murmurs, with the audacity to sound bored. “So, guys… any plans for Saturday?”

“Ya mean, unless we blow this whole thing up?” Bucky mutters back, but doesn’t bother turning the comm on.

“Oh, you know,” Steve answers. “I was hoping to detach Bucky from his grenade launcher long enough to drag him to that Finneran art show.”

“Oh, yeah, grenade launcher or modern art,” Bucky returns sarcastically. “What a _hard_ choice.”

“You don’t even know what it’s about,” Steve criticizes. Bucky doesn’t bother denying. “Also, you’ve been holding that thing for hours now, I think you have had about enough.”

“Holding it is not the interesting part though,” Clint muses. “Like, _holding_ a bow isn’t that exciting either…”

“Shut up, adrenaline junkie,” Natasha interrupts. “Finneran sounds good though, his approach to interlocking figures and shapes seems really interesting.”

Bucky snorts. “Oh, you _googled_ it?”

“You know, I have this innovative thing called _brain_ ,” Natasha replies calmly. “It also features that thing called _memory_ , not sure if you heard about it-”

“Ouch,” Clint remarks with amusement. Bucky looks offended but then again, not quite.

“Wait, he’s getting _out_ of the car,” Steve mutters suddenly. “Looks like-”

Natasha peers over the wall. “Me too- we might just catch him alive-”

Bucky groans while Nat gathers her things already. “You’re not really telling me I carried all this shit up here for nothing.”

“Stop whining, super soldier,” Natasha throws back, pushing the door open and hastily climbing down the stairs.

“But I never get to use the grenade launcher!” Bucky complains, hurrying to keep up with her.

Natasha jumps elegantly over the railing, but she is also so acrobatic-slash-awesome that she can turn her head at the same time and stare at him in horror. “Remember what happened in Macau?!”

“That was _one_ time.”

Natasha huffs, kicking the door open and pressing against the wall so she won’t be seen. “Tell that to my nerves. Put that thing down, you’ll only draw attention.”

Reluctantly, Bucky lowers the grenade launcher. “Ya know, I could still just blow them all up-”

“ _Or_ we could wait mere seconds and catch him alive, gaining valuable intel,” Steve cuts him off. “Clint, can you handle his security details?”

“Mmm, I can definitely distract them,” Clint replied thoughtfully. “Gimme a minute.”

“James,” Natasha whispers. He notices that his trigger finger is twitching again. “Keep it together, okay?”

He breathes through his nose and nods. He can’t see the guy, but he _knows_ he is just around the corner, not even in his SUV-

“Engage in five,” Clint’s voice interrupts. “Four…three…two-”

Nat jumps around the corner, punching one guy straight in the face. There is a blast that momentarily distracts the other nine, one of them being struck by an arrow as well. Then Steve is there, knocking two down with his shield. Another is pointing his gun at Natasha, who is busy breaking the arm of the guy who tried to grab her-

And he is holding this stupid grenade launcher and suddenly he _can’t_ blow them all up anymore, because Steve, because Nat-

Reaching for his shotgun is taking too long, but Nat has already kicked the guy with the gun in the groin, causing him to drop his weapon. It’s all over in a matter of seconds.

* * *

 

“James.”

He didn’t hear her approaching, even though he usually does. He should stop staring at the wall in front of him. But he knows what’s behind it. Who is.

Natasha crosses her arms in front of her chest. She doesn’t have a scratch, as always, though her hair is a little mussed. “You look unhappy.”

Bucky snorts and keeps drumming his metal fingers against the wall, making a clicking noise. Just a wall. So easy to punch through. “I didn’t get to use the grenade launcher. Again.”

Natasha shakes her head with amusement. “Stop pretending it’s about the grenade launcher. We both know it’s not.”

Of course. He sighs, but says nothing. Keeps staring holes in the wall. Natasha unfolds her arms and takes a few steps. “I understand you would have rather seen that Hydra goon dead. But there’s a high chance he can lead us to whoever is leaking military intel to Hydra.”

Bucky snorts. “Yeah, then we find that guy and can’t kill him because he has intel which helps us find yet another guy who in turn… it never ends, does it?”

Natasha steps in front of him and places a hand on his left shoulder. He hardly feels it. “I promise you. None of those guys will ever hurt you again. I will make sure of that.”

He grins, against himself. “Pinky promise?”

Natasha smiles and squeezes his shoulder, though there’s not much to squeeze. “Pinky promise.” She pulls her hand away and turns to go back, probably to interrogate that Hydra asshole. Looking over her shoulder, she adds: “Oh, by the way?”

Bucky tilts his head. A grin spreads on Natasha’s face. “I totally googled that artist just to piss you off.”


	2. Relaxed

The light that comes in through the dimmed windows is just right in its haziness. JARVIS always makes sure of that. Waking up to the gradually increasing light in your room is probably the best possible start into the day.

Natasha turns to her left and grins. James is there, eyes closed, merely breathing (not sleeping, though. He can’t fool her). What a rare sight. What a rare event.

They’ve been working on it for months. James is by no means a morning person, yet he can’t bear anything else than waking up at the crack of dawn and _doing_ something. Sleeping in gives him anxiety. And now, here he is, at rest.

“Never seen you so relaxed,” Natasha remarks idly. At least pretends to. She’s good at pretending. Basically her job description.

James hums, deep in his chest, but doesn’t react otherwise. Natasha grins and inches over against his side. “How do you do it?” she asks.

“You don’t really wanna know,” James mutters.

Natasha leans forward until her breath ghosts over his ear and her teeth can scrape over it. “Tell me,” she whispers seductively. “Your secret.”

James groans, definitely not moving away. “Why are you so damn persuasive?”

Natasha doesn’t bother answering, instead sliding her hand over his chest. “Tell me.”

He sighs. ”Oh, fine… Look, I- I got up at 4 a.m.”

“You didn’t,” Natasha states in disbelief. “I would’ve heard that.”

James snorts. “For a spy, you’re a pretty sound sleeper. I got up, silently, and then went for a run for an hour. Then I came back here and climbed back into bed.”

Natasha looks him over suspiciously. “You don’t smell.”

“I passed by Steve’s to shower without waking you up,” James explains.

Natasha grabs her pillow and hits him in the face. His hands are too tangled in the bed sheets to catch her. “First of all- how _dare_ you.”

“I woke up and lying around made me anxious!” James justifies. “And then I thought about how you would react, and-”

“And here I was, thinking we were making _progress_ ,” Natasha remarks sourly.

James sighs. “Look, it’s not that easy.”

She hits him with the pillow again. “Of course it isn’t! You idiot.”

He wrestles the pillow from her hands. “Jesus, gimme a break.”

Natasha snorts and moves to slide out of under the blankets. “Me? You’re just doing this for me? So I’ll stop bothering you?”

The pillow hits the back of her head. “Oh, shut up,” James returns. “You know that’s not true.”

Natasha turns around to lean over him and to run a finger over his jawline. “Then own it. Your failure. All of it.”

James snorts and pushes her hair out of his face. “Yeah, that sounds fun.” His hand moves with clear purpose to her waist. “So, now that you’re here anyway-”

The pillow hits him in the face again.


	3. Being better

It all started with a remark in passing.

They had been training for a mission the whole day. A team of six: the Black Widow, the Winter Soldier, a hacker, two hitmen and a local informant. Kind of overstaffed, but then again, the Red Room absolutely needed this mission to be a success. And weapons just kept in a closet weren’t particularly useful.

Natasha had criticized the shooting technique of one of the hitmen in passing when she was done discussing the local parameters with the informant. She wasn’t even intending to use an attack rifle in this mission. She wasn’t supposed to. The guy, however, didn’t take it so well, calling her _just a pretty face_. He challenged her to do it better, and that she did, hitting the target at the required distance with every shot.

The guy (number one, whatever his name was) wasn’t too happy about that, continuing to make her recharge as well as dis- and reassemble the rifle as fast as possible. Like she wasn’t trained in that. After pushing her over to the hacker, under whose watchful eyes she hacked the prepaid phone the target uses, they finally give up and ignore her.

Natasha saunters over to where the Winter Soldier is cleaning and oiling his weapons. He’s just back-up in this mission, more or less. He throws her a look, then turns so his back is to the room. “Making friends, I see.”

His voice has that monotone quality it always takes when there are other people around who could potentially hear them. Not that they would understand the significance of any of that, but still. Better safe than sorry. After all, they are all too aware of the highly dangerous territory they are on. “I’m just helping them,” Natasha returns quietly. “Not my fault they’re not as good at their job as they should be.”

He rolls his eyes, because snorting would make too much noise. “Guys _love_ it when you can show them you’re better than they are at something they love.”

Natasha doesn’t bother hiding the amusement in her voice. “Do they? Too bad your weapon maintenance is impeccable.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, the side of his mouth crooking slightly upwards while he puts down the AK-47. “Don’t be so harsh to those guys, your life may depend on them.”

Natasha snorts. “Yeah, nope. I don’t need their help. They don’t even belong to a program. They’re basically mercenaries.”

“They’re loyal,” he states unfazed. More quietly, he adds: “I guess we can be grateful if they’re not very perceptive.”

That is definitely true. They wouldn’t be here exchanging words, however innocent. Nothing is ever innocent. She looks over to the rest of their team and pretends to be bored. “Just imagine they weren’t here. We could run the op without them, no problem. Maybe keep the local. But we wouldn’t be stuck at a hideout with them, we would be stuck at a hideout _alone_.”

He doesn’t look up. “That sounds dangerous.”

“More dangerous than climbing through my window and making out in my room?” Natasha questions quietly.

For a moment, he just continues cleaning the M4A1 as if he hadn’t heard, but when he puts it down, he suddenly starts grinning. It’s rare, and it’s a beautiful sight. Natasha doesn’t say anything in order not to disturb the moment. Also, they can’t appear overly committed to their talk, for fear of appearing suspicious.

“Anyway, I still think going through the main entrance is the best option.” Louder, in the unlikely case those others are actually listening. They throw a lot of red herrings, just to be sure. It would be amateurish not to. Talking is dangerous enough, but if they tried to avoid every risk, they wouldn’t be seeing each other at all. Some risks might just be worth taking.

He’s scrutinizing her, as if assessing her abilities. As if he didn’t know them all too well. He even trained her sometimes, not because he was ordered to, but because he wants to. If there is one thing he can do to ensure her survival, it is making her the best she can possibly be. “You know these guys are only here because you are better than them.”

Natasha keeps a stern face, as much as she wants to snort. “They’re not extraordinarily good.”

“Dispensable,” he agrees and starts putting the weapons away. “Go. I’ll see you tonight.”

Natasha bites her lip to hide a smile and turns to go. “You bet.”


End file.
